


butterscotch bourbon

by endlesshydrangea (bloominsummer)



Series: kiss me under the mistletoe 2020 [4]
Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, finally someone kissed under the mistletoe in this project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/endlesshydrangea
Summary: Seungcheol says his New Year’s resolution is to settle down and as the guy he occasionally sleeps with, Jihoon is obviously okay with that. Just because he didn’t see it coming doesn’t mean things between them were never bound to end, right? Right.The thing that bothers Jihoon is Seungcheol appears eager to play house until the clock strikes twelve on January 1st.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Series: kiss me under the mistletoe 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042560
Comments: 9
Kudos: 118





	butterscotch bourbon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chokyuus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chokyuus/gifts), [greyskieslatenights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskieslatenights/gifts).



> prompt by and written for chokyuus who wanted fwb jicheol who get together under the mistletoe. honorary dedication to greyskieslatenights who also asked some jicheol bread <3!!
> 
> i was thinking about this [seungcheol](https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/993357638502002689/LDcEkGLl_400x400.jpg) and this [jihoon](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EFPYIBbUUAEFJZp.jpg) the entire time i was writing this~

Jihoon can barely see in five feet in front of him because of how crowded the club is. He supposes it’s understandable why all of these people are here; himself included. It’s the last weekend before they come to the end of this very long year. Everyone wishes to have one last hurrah before they swear off alcohol and smoking and other filthy habits to start the next chapter afresh.

“Hey,” a voice comes right next to his ear and Jihoon would have wrenched away from the person if he didn’t know who it belonged to.

But he does, so he turns around and grins at the bottle of beer dangled in front of him, the slim neck dotted with tiny droplets of condensation. Seungcheol smiles from behind the glass, dimpled cheeks making him look as sweet as ever. As handsome as ever, with his raven hair pushed back, styled neatly with the right amount of hair product.

He smiles back at Seungcheol and makes a move to retrieve the bottle from him, but before he gets the chance to do so, Seungcheol’s lifting it above his head and out of Jihoon’s reach. The younger frowns, hand falling back down. Not to his own side, but to Seungcheol’s hip. Jihoon rubs circles over the sharp jut of his hip bone, protruding from beneath his jeans.

“What?” he mouths at the older man, because they’re not close enough for Seungcheol to hear him over the music. “What do you want?”

Seungcheol’s attention is fixed on his mouth to allow him to read Jihoon’s sentence. Then he lazily drags his gaze from Jihoon’s mouth to find his eyes. They lock, and Seungcheol’s eyes brighten with a clear question shining through them. Ah, of course, that’s what he wants. Out of courtesy, Jihoon holds back a chuckle even though Seungcheol probably won’t be able to hear him if he does let it out.

He slides the hand that isn’t clutching Seungcheol’s shirt at the curve of his waist over the older’s man nape and brings Seungcheol’s face down to his. It’s electric, the way Seungcheol kisses him, the way his taste sends Jihoon’s senses into overdrive more than the press of the cold bottle of beer against his upper arm. His body arches into Seungcheol and the people around them continue to dance, uncaring, but Jihoon feels his arousal building. 

When he pulls away there’s a thin string of saliva connecting their mouths and _fuck_ , that’s so _hot._ Seungcheol is so fucking hot and Jihoon takes the opportunity when the older man’s still slightly dazed from their kiss to steal the bottle away from him. He takes a swing, the alcohol quenching one of his two thirsts, the second Jihoon quenches by kissing Seungcheol again as soon as the liquid passes through his throat.

Seungcheol savours the beer on his tongue and over the rows of Jihoon’s teeth, then collects the bitter aftertaste for him.

“Thanks,” Jihoon pants lightly against his jaw when Seungcheol eventually releases him. They’re dancing now, bodies moving to the booming club music.

Naughty, or perhaps just adventurous, Seungcheol licks across Jihoon’s lips one last time, then he wraps his hand around Jihoon’s wrist to guide the beer bottle to his mouth. Seungcheol takes one large gulp without asking for Jihoon’s permission, though it’s probably within his rights, considering he was the one who bought the drink.

Jihoon watches his Adam’s apple bob down as he swallows in a lackadaisical manner. A brief flash of memory comes to him, emerging from the surface of a calm lake on a windless day. Seungcheol swallows the liquid the same way he always does with Jihoon’s come smeared over his tongue, the edges of his mouth red from the stretch that is Jihoon’s cock inside, rim swollen from committing an act of worship.

“Jesus Christ, Seungcheol.” He says this to no one in particular, but Seungcheol catches the words tumbling out of him and throws him a knowing smirk.

The older bridges the distance between them until his cheek is touching Jihoon’s own. “Finish it first,” Seungcheol whisper lowly in his ear, referring to the beer. “Then we can move our party somewhere else.”

He gets a bit dizzy from downing the remaining content of the bottle in under five seconds, oesophagus burning with the ethanol but it’s so, so worth it. It’s definitely worth having Seungcheol corner him to the wall outside the entrance of the club, then again at the bus stop, Jihoon’s back pressed flat against the glass panel meant to hold advertisement posters.

Their bus driver takes one look at them and instantly connects the dot from their mutually dishevelled state, the flush high on their cheeks, body vibrating with anticipation and arousal and euphoria. He shakes his head as Jihoon taps his card on the reader, paying his fee after Seungcheol does the same. There’s a low mutter of _kids nowadays_ , and Jihoon’s chest swells with pride at that because neither he nor Seungcheol is all that young anymore.

They try their hardest to keep their hands to themselves until they get to the stop in front of Jihoon’s apartment. Well, Jihoon tries his hardest. Seungcheol keeps on massaging his thigh, hand creeping higher and higher, dangerously close to Jihoon’s growing heat. He has half a mind to slap his hand away, but in the end Jihoon just bites down on his bottom lip, hard enough to almost draw blood but not quite, and looks out the window.

And then Seungcheol’s thumb traces over the joint between his hips and thigh repeatedly. Jihoon swears he’s _this_ close to coming in his pants.

Fortunately, he manages to perform an incredible amount of self-restraint. They make it into Jihoon’s bedroom before Seungcheol tears his shirt off and helps Jihoon gets out of his. They exchange peals of laughter in the midst of it all, having fun as a form of foreplay, until Seungcheol rips away Jihoon’s underwear and takes his leaking cock into his mouth.

“Jesus Christ.”

Seungcheol sucks at the head, fervent, as if to remind Jihoon that it’s the wrong name to call out. The sudden increase in pressure has Jihoon crying out half in surprise, the other half in pleasure.

“Seung. Cheol.”

“Yeah?”

That was a fucking obscene pop he made when he pulled away. Must be on purpose.

“I fucking love your mouth,” Jihoon breathes out, awe lacing his every word. He means it. “For real. You’re a godsend.”

“Alright.” Seungcheol’s grins form over the most sensitive part of his inner thigh and Jihoon's body shakes, a subtle response that Seungcheol detects nonetheless. “Gotcha.”

He’s gotten scary good at this. Effortlessly catching the slightest burrowing of Jihoon’s brows, the smallest hitch in his breathing, the tiniest stutter of his hips. Lee Jihoon is a language Choi Seungcheol’s mastered perfectly, and this is the most intimate form of acquaintanceship two people can have.

Jihoon reaches down to tangle his fingers in Seungcheol’s hair, blunt nails scraping over his scalp in encouragement. Which Seungcheol doesn’t need all that much, but Jihoon still feels like giving him some.

His recollection from before is accurate. As he nears his climax Jihoon gives Seungcheol the courtesy of a warning through his staccato exhales: _I’m. I’m. Close. Seung. Cheol_. and instead of pulling away Seungcheol hums around him, takes Jihoon further into his mouth until he’s all but choking on the length. Jihoon tries not to thrust his hips up when he comes, one fist gripping his pillow tight, the other he bites down on to muffle his groan.

Seungcheol pulls away immediately after, letting cold air blanket Jihoon’s cock, twitching and leaking and oversensitive.

Jihoon’s eyes open just in time to watch him swallow.

* * *

“So,” Seungcheol fluffs Jihoon’s additional pillow before he rests his head on it.

 _Additional_ , because Jihoon lives alone in a one-bedroom apartment and therefore has absolutely no need for a second pillow. It was just more convenient to have an extra after Seungcheol started coming around more often, rather than make the older sleep on either sofa cushion or Jihoon’s sore body. Close to a year later, it’s come to the point that Jihoon buys new pillowcases in sets.

Jihoon turns to the side to face him. “What?”

“Any New Year’s resolution?”

He laughs a little, not expecting Seungcheol to choose this topic as pillow talk. His amusement earns him a light poke on the soft flesh on his waist and Jihoon squirms. Catching Seungcheol’s hand in his, he takes it to his mouth and fits Seungcheol’s index finger in between his teeth. Jihoon’s lips wrap perfectly around the digit. It tastes salty, but still smells like something sweet and Jihoon isn’t entirely sure if it’s the oxytocin flooding his brain making a damn fool out of him.

Seungcheol’s hooded gaze lands on Jihoon, then he’s taking his hand back rather abruptly, much to Jihoon’s disappointment. “Give me a damn minute to breathe, you sex fiend!”

It makes him laugh again and Jihoon flops back on the bed, eyes turned toward the ceiling.

“What’s yours?”

A brief silence ensues, one that Jihoon wishes he could prolong forever had he known what Seungcheol is about to say.

“I’d wanna settle down, probably. Quit this bachelor life, as fun as it has been.”

 _Crack_.

No, that couldn’t be the sound of his heart breaking, because he and Seungcheol are just… sex-buddies. Fuck, what do the actual youngsters call this kind of relationship nowadays? Jihoon is a couple of years past thirty, Seungcheol a year and a bit older than him, and both of them are far from being updated on modern slangs. Still, it hits Jihoon hard, the heavy implication behind a sentence so lightly said.

“Hoon-ah?”

“Ye—” His fucking voice breaks, like a total idiot. “Yeah. Sorry.” Jihoon pats his chest a couple of times, trying to pass it off as a cough. “Settle down, huh?”

He hears Seungcheol moves next to him, but Jihoon refuses to face him. “Yeah, settle down. It’s about time, right?”

Fuck, what does Seungcheol expect him to say here? He’d just get Jihoon to come _twice_ in, what, less than twenty minutes—now he’s ending their non-relationship in the subtlest of ways. It’s kind, of course, befitting of Seungcheol’s characteristics. He doesn’t need to bring out the big guns, doesn’t need to confront Jihoon with the epilogue. He’s breaking it down to him gently.

Maybe Jihoon is Seungcheol’s last hurrah for the year.

“That’s great, Seungcheol,” says Jihoon softly. “I’m excited for you.”

“Mhhm,” Seungcheol mumbles, sleepy.

When Jihoon finally gathers enough courage to turn to his side, Seungcheol’s already fast asleep, chest moving up in down with his breathing. A hickey is blooming at the base of his throat, Jihoon’s personal handiwork, and he wonders which one will come sooner: the complete fade of Jihoon’s last mark on him or the new year.

* * *

“Just tell him you’re in love with him then,” Soonyoung supplies unhelpfully.

Jihoon wants to smack the sandwich off of his hands for suggesting something so dumb, but as exasperated as he is with Soonyoung, it’s never good to waste food.

“He basically told me he wanted to call it quits.”

“Well,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “that means you’ve got nothing to lose. Right?”

Glaring at Soonyoung, Jihoon is reconsidering his stance on wasting food. Or maybe he’ll just smack Soonyoung himself. Those pinkish chubby cheeks need to be toned down a little anyway. He’s about to lift his hand and lets the wind makes his decision for him, but then his phone pings.

“Ooh!” Soonyoung perks up in excitement. “Loverboy?”

“No way,” grumbles Jihoon, because there’s no way.

Seungcheol hasn’t texted him since that night, although he kissed Jihoon goodbye the next morning like he hadn’t just ended a year-long arrangement in a couple of curt sentences right before he dozed off.

And yet it’s Seungcheol’s name he sees in the notification bubble. Soonyoung makes an obnoxious slurping sound as he drinks his milkshake and Jihoon swears he’s never going to eat in the cafeteria with him ever again. Not even if Soonyoung begs him to because Wonwoo’s away on some stupid department outing and they’re six feet deep into codependency that he can’t eat without his boyfriend or a person who has some sort of connection to him.

Jihoon opens the text while simultaneously trying to block Soonyoung from reading it.

_Free on Wednesday night?_

Wednesday night is the 30th. Great. So Seungcheol remained casual yesterday only because he planned on having another go at Jihoon before he leaves him to _settle down_. A white picket fence life, no doubt. He’s got a distinguished career, stellar credit ratings, and some fantastic fucking genes. Maybe this ship was always meant to sink from the beginning.

Despite the bitterness that’s chipping away at him, Jihoon types back, _yea._

The chat bubble appears as Seungcheol is writing his reply, then Jihoon’s phone pings again. This time Seungcheol says: _Great! Meet me in front this address at 8:30?_ and then below, a location share that reads _627-192 Hannam-dong, Yongsan-gu._

This bastard and his _audacity_. He can’t even be bothered to pick Jihoon up if he wants to go to a sex hotel or something. Jihoon rolls his eyes and responds with nothing more than a thumbs up, then he pockets his phone and frowns at his food, suddenly no longer as appetising as it was before he read Seungcheol’s text. Soonyoung eyes him carefully and Jihoon already knows what he’s going to ask.

“Yeah,” he sighs, a little defeated. “You can have my lunch.”

“I still think you should confess to him.”

“I hope you choke on my chicken.”

Soonyoung gasps, indignant, then mutters something about telling Wonwoo how Jihoon has been bullying him in his absence.

* * *

Okay. Jihoon should’ve checked what this place actually was before he took the subway and then connecting bus from Itaewon station, plus the five-minute walk he had to endure in the freezing snowy night. Instead of a high-end establishment at which he and Seungcheol can fuck one last time, Jihoon finds himself standing in front of a _home_.

There’s clearly a party going on inside, celebrating what Jihoon is unsure. The New Year isn’t for another day.

Has he perhaps gotten the address wrong?

Jihoon stares at his phone screen and back at the plaque on the front gate of the house. To his understanding, it’s correct. He can’t exactly ring the doorbell and ask to be let in, he doesn’t know these people. He can’t even ask them if they know Seungcheol somehow, because that would require explaining his connection to Seungcheol and Jihoon can’t do that.

There isn’t one—a connection.

“You’re early!”

He hears Seungcheol’s voice calling out to him from down the road. Jihoon turns around and sees him dressed up quite nicely. Not exactly his club-going attire. He’s more… proper, somehow. Try as he might, Jihoon’s stomach does a little somersault at the sight of him. His confident stride, his unwavering smile.

“What’s this pla—”

Jihoon’s question is cut off with the press of Seungcheol’s kiss against his lips, a routine greeting. It’s entirely greedy, he knows, and overwhelmingly selfish too, but he wants the kiss to continue for as long as possible, so when Seungcheol pulls away slightly Jihoon drags him back down by the lapels of his jacket. He smells so nice, Jihoon mourns his impending loss, it’d be so hard finding someone else like him. That is, if he can successfully move on from Seungcheol sometime in the next year.

“Ah,” Seungcheol rubs his face with gentle thumbs, frowning slightly in concern. “You’re so cold.” He kisses Jihoon’s cheeks, one small peck to each side. Then he brushes the snow off the tips of Jihoon's silver strands. “I’d offer to pick you up, but I finished work sort of late and barely had enough time to go home and shower.”

What’s the explanation for, really? They aren’t dating. Seungcheol isn’t obligated to pick Jihoon up or drive him home or anything like that. They can arrive and depart separately from whatever place this is.

“It’s fine.”

“Here,” Seungcheol takes Jihoon’s left hand and shoves it inside his jacket pocket. “A bit warmer now?” He leans down a bit to find Jihoon’s eyes, putting on a fond smile.

“What’s this place?”

“Oh,” he leads them toward the front gate and rings the doorbell. “My best friend’s house.”

 _What the hell,_ Jihoon thinks, but before he can vocalise his thought out loud, the gate swings open and a stranger comes out to greet… Jihoon first. “Oh my God!” The man immediately wraps Jihoon in a one-handed hug. “It really is my birthday!”

“Jihoon, this is Joshua.”

Unconsciously, Jihoon holds Seungcheol’s hand a little tighter inside his jacket, something Seungcheol’s _best friend_ seems to notice. He lifts his gaze from their concealed, joined hands to grin at Seungcheol. Somewhat mischievous, which only unsettles Jihoon more.

“That’s me! I’m Joshua,” he says, introducing himself. “We’ve been waiting a long time to meet you! Seungcheol always said we’d scare you away.”

“We?” Jihoon asks, still reeling from the surprise Seungcheol decided to drop on him. At the same time, Seungcheol corrects Joshua gently, “I never said _you_ would scare him away. I said Jeonghan will.”

The mention of yet another name that is unfamiliar to Jihoon has Joshua’s ears perking up in delight. They’re sort of pointy in a pretty way, lobes decorated with a multitude of piercings.

“Jeonghan?” asks Jihoon again, knees going weak.

“Oh, please come on in first!”

Joshua ushers them inside the house where Seungcheol is immediately crowded by more of his friends Jihoon’s never had the pleasure to meet before. He gets sort of overwhelmed for a moment there, but every time he feels like slipping away Seungcheol plays with his fingers, still providing warmth for Jihoon in the most tender way possible.

Through cuts of conversation that his brain manages to retain, Jihoon quickly gathers that it’s Joshua’s birthday today and they’re celebrating him. Although Jihoon knows nothing of these people, they seem to know him, or _of_ him—which confuses him so much.

It isn’t until a man in a platinum blond hair saunters over to them, his presence ever demanding of attention from everyone in his proximity, does Jihoon first feel like his head's been pulled out from under water.

“Jeonghan,” he extends out a slender hand with dainty fingers, which Jihoon takes after a moment of hesitation. “I see Seungcheol finally convinced you to come.”

“ _Convinced_ me?”

Jihoon wants to rectify his misconception. He wants to let Jeonghan know that tonight has been nothing short than an _ambush_ , but there’s no point. The man is Seungcheol’s friend and most likely going to side with him anyway.

“Don’t intimidate him too much,” Seungcheol pipes in from next to them, breaking the silence he’s nurtured since Jeonghan walked into the room. “Play nice, please.” He turns to Jihoon and releases his hand. “Can I leave you with Jeonghan for a bit? I need to give Shua his present.”

 _You’ve got to be kidding me_ , Jihoon glares up at him. Seungcheol just laughs heartily.

“Don’t worry, you can trust Jeonghan.” He kisses Jihoon’s pout away before he walks to the other room to find Joshua.

Jeonghan brings him over to the couch so Jihoon can sit down. “Okay, here you go.” He hands Jihoon a tall glass of wine, red, and Jihoon doesn’t waste a second before he drinks half of it.

“Whoa,” says Jeonghan. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Sorry,” Jihoon offers half-heartedly.

Truth be told, the drink is more for Jeonghan’s benefit than his. He’s likely to be a more responsive conversation partner once he passes the initial stage of discomfort. Alcohol will help. It has to, otherwise he won’t make it through the night.

“Don’t be,” Jeonghan returns, patting Jihoon’s back as a show of his sympathy. “I know it can be nerve-wracking to meet the friends. We’ve been asking Seungcheol to bring his boyfriend around for so long but he’s always refused, that rascal.” He turns to Jeonghan to see him shaking his head, a fond gesture.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he carries on. “We were beginning to think you were fictional.”

Jihoon’s stomach drops. Perhaps the boyfriend Seungcheol has been mentioning to his friends _is_ fictional, and Jihoon is nothing but a mere substitute. Someone of convenience Seungcheol can use for one last time before he ends things with Jihoon, quick and bloodless. New year, new me, all that fucking jazz.

Yeah. Jihoon’s just a fill-in here. An understudy. Seungcheol could always say it doesn't work out between them when he rolls into one of these parties with a new beau hanging from his arm.

“I’m sorry,” he gets up from the couch. “Thank you.” What the hell is he thanking this man for? “I’m going to go. Please—” _tell Seungcheol I’m sorry_ , but the words won’t come out because Jihoon’s not sorry. Jihoon’s _upset_. “Thank you,” he repeats again, miserable and monotonous.

Jihoon bolts toward the door before Jeonghan can muster a reply. He’s almost made it out of the gate when a hand wrap around his elbow, tugging him back inside the front yard. Seungcheol’s eyes are wild with panic, searching Jihoon’s features for answers.

“Did Jeonghan say something wrong?” he asks immediately. “I’m sorry if he did, I’m sure he didn’t—”

“Why am I here?” Jihoon demands, his head already starting to hurt. “To pretend to be the boyfriend?” he spats the word _pretend_ with a good amount of venom. “Ashamed to acknowledge our relationship as what it is, _was_ , are we, Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol reels back. “I never—”

“Then what?”

He tries to be mindful of his volume, not wanting to cause a scene in front of Seungcheol’s friend. Regardless of how hurt Jihoon is feeling, he wouldn’t want Seungcheol to be the talk of the party tonight. Wouldn’t want to ruin the celebration for Joshua, either, as sweet as he was to Jihoon before.

“Because one night you were ending things between us and the next you invited me to a party filled with your friends, all of whom seemed to think we’re boyfriends!”

“Whoa,” Seungcheol raises both hands in the air to mollify Jihoon’s outburst. “Hoon-ah, when did I say I wanted to end things with you?”

If Jihoon rolls his eyes harder than this, they would pop out of their sockets. “You’re joking, right?”

“No,” he says firmly, “I’m not. Can you please tell me?”

Jihoon runs his fingers through his hair. “New Year’s resolution,” he says finally. “You said you want to settle down.”

“Yes.” Seungcheol nods. Jihoon waits for him to continue. “Oh.” The proverbial light bulb goes off above Seungcheol’s head. His eyes flood with realisation. “Oh, Jihoon.”

“What?”

“Yes, I did say that I want to settle down,” the older man admits, trying to reach for Jihoon’s hands.

Jihoon’s torn between putting a measurable distance between them and letting Seungcheol have him one last time. At the very last second, he decides to go with the former and Seungcheol’s face falls slightly, although he seems determined to continue.

“But what I meant,” Seungcheol is looking straight into Jihoon’s eyes as he says the words, “and what I’m beginning to realise didn’t come across properly, is that I want to settle down _with you_.”

“Huh?”

“Hoon-ah,” he begins, careful. “Don’t get me wrong, alright? I love our club nights.”

It was how they first met and how they continued on meeting thereafter. They’d agree on a time and place and work to find each other in a sea of people. Sometimes they’d spend hours dancing and flirting, other times they would only last five short minutes, then they’d go back to Seungcheol’s place or Jihoon’s, whichever is closer to their meeting point. It was a routine that worked, and though they never agreed to anything aloud, Jihoon knew he was the only one for Seungcheol, just like Seungcheol was the only one for him.

“Watching you dance like you own the world, it always turns me on to the point that it’s painful sometimes. Except I’m getting so damn old, my back would hurt from a night dancing _and_ fucking you into the mattress.” Jihoon gapes at him, unable to anticipate where this conversation is going now. “So I’d like to, I don’t know, maybe stay in and binge-watch anime instead. Save up my energy for the more important things.”

“Like fucking me into the mattress,” Jihoon reiterates, slightly dumbstruck.

“Yeah.” God, Seungcheol’s laughter must be what comes out of an angel when they open their mouth. “Like fucking you into the mattress.”

“Oh.”

“Also, the promise of seeing you on the weekend is wonderful. Quite motivational, I must admit. It gets me through the harder weeks,” Seungcheol acknowledges, somewhat bashful. Jihoon’s heart threatens to soar. “But, it’d be nice if I’m allowed to see you during the week too. Or whenever I want, you know I’m super clingy.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon agrees with his acknowledgement wholeheartedly. “You are.”

“This is sort of the part where you accept or reject me, you know. I’m professing my undying love for you here.”

This time, Jihoon offers Seungcheol his hand. The older man takes it and brings it to his mouth, dropping a kiss to the back of Jihoon’s hand before he rests his cheek against it.

“Let’s settle down, then, cowboy.” Seungcheol immediately lifts his head, gaze bright and hopeful. Happy. “And maybe schedule an appointment with a chiropractor for your back,” Jihoon adds a slight teasing, but it doesn’t cause Seungcheol’s beam to waver.

He’s leaning in, and Jihoon’s ready to welcome him—

“Oi!” Jeonghan’s shrill voice pierces through the romantic atmosphere. “Standing out there isn’t going to help with the cold feet, you know!”

“Fucking Yoon Jeonghan,” Seungcheol curses under his breath. “He sure knows how to pick his moments.”

Jihoon just moves in to wrap his arms around Seungcheol, buries his laughter in the crook of Seungcheol’s neck, the scent of soap still fresh on his skin.

“Oi!” they hear again.

“We heard you!” Seungcheol shouts back, arms coming up to Jihoon’s shoulders, reeling the younger man closer into his embrace. “Asshole,” he mutters again, though it lacks any heat.

“You’re standing beneath a mistletoe, by the way!”

Jihoon leans away from Seungcheol to fact-check Jeonghan's claim and finds that he is indeed saying the truth. They must’ve neglected to take down the Christmas decoration, so now Jihoon and Seungcheol are, in fact, standing under a small wreath of mistletoe.

“You gonna kiss me or what?” Seungcheol asks when Jihoon’s gaze lands on his face again.

 _Soonyoung, you won’t ever hear me say this aloud, but thanks_ , Jihoon thinks absentmindedly while looking at Seungcheol’s dimpled smile.

“I’m in love with you,” he confesses in a steady breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Seungcheol responds shortly after, looking like the breath has just been knocked out of his chest. “Those words coming from you hit me ten times harder than Shua’s butterscotch bourbon.”

“Butterscotch _wh—_ “

Damn Choi Seungcheol doesn’t let him finish his sentence again because he’s kissing Jihoon and smiling into the kiss, dipping Jihoon’s slightly backward so he can deepen their exchange. Jihoon supposes he gets his answer anyway, because he can taste the bourbon on Seungcheol’s tongue, right next to the melted syrup of his felicity.

**Author's Note:**

> i love jicheol :3333 also i was sort of glum i didn't pull any snwu in KMUTM ((granted there was only like one prompt i think)) so there's a bit of snwu here to make up for it... :D
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/blminsmmr/status/1343568783785381893?s=21) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/bloominsummer)


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